The ‘Super’ comes from the nutella spread used to sandwich the brioche slices together. The ‘Luxury’ comes from the additional slab of chopped up dark chocolate.
This creation came about due to a series of unfortunate events. Last Saturday England humiliated itself in the Rugby Word Cup, losing to Wales. Now whilst this debacle was going on, we were getting ready to meet with our mortgage advisor the next morning.
Having blown us out once already, said mortgage advisor claimed that meeting on a Sunday morning was no problem and he ‘often did it’. So, documents in hand, the following morning we prepared to set off to sort out our mortgage (oh yes, we are moving). Just as we were walking out the door, I checked my phone.
Text message. ‘Really sorry, I’ve been ill all night, can’t make the meeting’. Blah, blah. Then, rather strangely, the message ended with the mortgage advisor stating he wouldn’t be in the next day either, as if reinforcing the gravity of his life threatening illness.
Gutted. We were really under pressure to get the mortgage sorted. What to do? Well of course, make something utterly decadent. Super Luxury Brioche and Butter Pudding.
Looking for a bit of inspiration in the latest edition of the Good Food magazine, I stumbled across a Very Berry Loaf Cake, from a chap who almost won last year’s Great British Bake Off. A thing about the particular programme; it’s becoming a little, well, stale. Somewhat dry. A tad soggy on the bottom. There are, after all, only so many times you can watch someone create a Bakewell Tart.
And think about the presenters, Mary & Paul. Last time I saw it the contestants had to make a three-tier cheesecake with different cakes for each tier. There were nine of them baking so that’s 27 cheesecakes. And then Mary & Paul test-tasted them all. Blurgh.
This Very Berry Loaf Cake, on the other hand, is so light and fluffy you could eat it all day. Which I am currently in the process of doing.
Too many times I go about creating some long-winded, complex creation with the intention of blogging all about it only to find I either a) cannot remember what the ingredients are, b) didn’t put the card in the camera, c) cannot even remember what it was that I created. So for this post I kept it simple – Salmon and Pesto Parcels. It takes about 10 minutes to put together, 20 minutes to cook and about 5 minutes to eat.
Finally! I found a pastry I can make. And of course its rough. Another extract from my new ‘Perfect’ book of recipes.
But I feel a need to digress. The summer holiday season is upon us. Children off school, which is good because the daily commute instantly becomes a joyous Utopia of empty roads. Weather improving, with the heady heights of 30 plus centigrade promised this week (into the 90’s for you fahrenheit stalwarts). Those are the good points.
The bad points. Where the hell to go on holiday? By my reckoning about 90% of the globe is now a no-go. Anywhere east of India is too far (unless you can take three weeks off). India? Its experiencing a heatwave so bad people are dying in the streets. The Mediterranean. Refugees are literally swimming up to the beaches. Its real chaos. Greece? Greece is in a seriously dire mess. Egypt, Tunisia? Not likely. With the expansion of the people’s paradise of ISIS most of North Africa and the Middle East is off the table.
Maybe a Stay-cation. Who on God’s green Earth thought that one up? I mean who in their right mind can sit at home watching daytime TV with a bottle of Pino Grigio and say to themselves ‘This is fun I should do this more often’?
Although that option would give me options. Drinking wine. Cooking….And its not like I would need to worry about getting beach-body ready. Always an issue. Actually whilst rambling on, a daytime TV ad just came up – the ‘tonetee’. The ad has a middle aged man walking down a path wearing a fat-hiding T-shirt, and two women turn to stare. I think the implication was he looked super-fit. But I think they were wondering why he was walking like he had just crapped himself.
Anyway back to the pastry. Rough Puff Pastry. I made it and then I made some quiches. They don’t look all that but tasted amaze-balls…
No this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t want speckled scones. But speckled scones is what I got. Oh and by the way, if you hail from the States, these are biscuits.
I received a gift – an excellent book called ‘Perfect’, created by a Guardian writer who does an in depth analysis of a classic creation and then decides what the perfect version is. So I thought I’d give it a go. Perfect scones require lard and butter (not just butter) and also you shouldn’t roll the pastry, but rather flatten it by hand.
So, given I followed the instructions for perfect scones, how come my scones weren’t perfect? I will get to that later.